Play Dead (Tim Simenon 7` Remix)

Darling, stop confusing me, with your wishful thinking. Hopeful embraces, Don't you understand? Ihave to go through this, I belong to care where no-one cares, and no-one loves. No light no air to live in, a place called hate, The City of Death. I play dead, It stops the hurting. I play dead, and the hurt stops. Its sometimes just like sleeping, curling up inside my private tortures. I nestle into pain, Hug suffering, caress every nerve I play dead, It stops the hurting. ( to fade )